Aftermath--A Gentleman's Dignity
by TexanRose
Summary: Based off of A Gentleman's Dignity, a Korean Drama. A series of one-shots about the Yoon/Meahri realtionship after their marriage. What happens when forty-one year old man and a twenty-four year old girl who love each other desperately get married? How do they negotiate the changing nature of their relationship?
1. First Nights

**This is based on a Korean Drama entitled **_**A Gentleman's Dignity** _**about a group of four friends who are forty-one years old and have been best friends since high school. ****One of the relationships the drama discusses is between Choi Yoon, a lawyer and one of the four friends, and Im Meahri, the twenty-four-year-old sister of Im Tae-San, another one of the four friends. This romantic relationship is actually quite well done with the young girl chasing after the older man who continually turns her down because of the age difference and his past until he realizes he cannot live without her. **

**I was really interested in this story because it ended it what seemed like a happy marriage between a couple with a seventeen year age difference. But I wondered, what is really like to be married to someone you knew as a child and have such an age difference with while negotiating the new husband-wife relationship? Here's my take. **

**I do not own AGD or any of the characters. **

***Yoon was previously widowed (for four years); his wife's name was Jung Ah. **

* * *

The first night was really a first afternoon, light pouring through the windows, suitcases half-forgotten on the floor, clothes thrown around the spacious suite. The sheets were cool and crisp and the bodies that were tangled in them warm and soft. The newlywed couple was hesitant with each other, nervous, blushing. Their rings felt conspicuous on their fingers, the relationship sudden and new. He had to remind himself that the woman beside was no longer unattainable, unreachable, forbidden. She was now his wife.

Afterwards, when she fell asleep next to him, he memorized the peaceful features of her sleeping face before brushing her hair away from her eyes. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned down and gave her a kiss on her cheek before holding her in his arms.

The second night they were less timid, aided by the bottle of wine they had shared in the hotel restaurant. He anxiously held her hand as they rode the elevator the twenty stories to their suite, his impatience shared by his bride who kept shifting her weight from foot to foot. As they closed the door behind them, he leaned in for a deep kiss, his tongue teasing her mouth open. She broke off the kiss, fumbling for a moment as she kicked off her heels and then he worked on the zipper of her dress as she undid his tie. That night, he kissed every inch of her body, aware of how beautiful she was, how young, how soft, how womanly.

The third night they had been in bed for hours when darkness fell, held at bay by the rain and thunder that pounded outside the windows. She had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder as he read emails on his tablet. When he saw how deeply she was breathing, he put the tablet away and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. She shifted at the movement so that her arm was wrapped around his waist. He smiled before letting himself drift off to sleep.

The fourth night, the couple, still shy with each other, turned all the lights off before climbing into the large bed. Then she kissed him first, softly, gently before the kiss hardened with desire and need. This time, she guided him and showed him what she needed and wanted. And he complied.

The fifth night, they were talking on the balcony discussing the life they would have together, reiterating promises of goodness to one another. As usual, they danced around the topic the age difference that would catch up to them sooner rather than later. Instead, they talked about career and family and Sunday mornings when they could stay in their pajamas. They mentioned the rain that had forced them indoors, and the beautiful view from the balcony. As she leaned over the railing, he wrapped his arms protectively around her waist and rested his head in the space where her neck met her shoulder and looked with her at the expanse before them. Breathing in, he could smell the flower-smell of the perfume she preferred and had used every day since their wedding.

He had begun by kissing the back of her neck and then her shoulder. He hadn't realized his kisses had become needy until she moaned softly and pressed her palm against his cheek. He let go of her and spun her around before giving her a deep kiss on the lips. Then, he pulled her by the wrist into the welcoming darkness of their suite.

The sixth night they left the lights on for the first time. He was hesitant, afraid she would see the marks of age apparent on his body. But she didn't seem to notice as she undressed him and then him her. Her eyes seemed wide with unbelief that they could freely love each other, be with each other. Their shyness seemed to fade away as they became familiar, comfortable, with each other.

The seventh night was really morning before the check-out time at the front desk. They lingered in bed well past any decent hour, lazily talking about what would happen in the next few weeks. He noticed that she smiled more and brightly, her eyes shining. He silently promised himself once more that he would never let her go. When she leaned in to kiss him, it felt as natural and good and right. It felt like home.

The eighth night was their first in their new home. She took it all in with a deep breath and a critical eye. It was a spacious apartment he had found and she had carefully helped pick out the furniture that filled the expansive space. When she saw the dishes stacked on a lower shelf, she sighed in satisfaction because she knew she was where she was supposed to be.

She entered the bedroom shyly and saw him unpacking the bag he had taken on their honeymoon. He said nothing as she looked around and saw the dresser and the drawers that had been designated for her use. Any stranger could tell it was a couple's room just by objects that were scattered about.

He stopped his unpacking when she walked in and studied her for a moment before speaking quietly. "I haven't shared a bedroom with a woman in a long time. You need to tell me if I did something wrong."

She sighed and smiled. "I have never shared a room with a man before. You need to tell me what you like."

His gaze suddenly became longing as he looked at her. "I like you in here with me."

"Me too," she answered back. She began to walk across the space that separated them, her slippers making dull noises against the tile, stopping in front of him before wrapping her arms around his waist. His eyes widened in surprise before he reciprocated the motion and then rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"I love you, Yoon," she told him informally, using his name without the honorary oppa attached to it.

He held her closer before he responded, "I love you, Meahri." They stayed like that for a while, until they were sure the other person knew what was in their hearts.


	2. Younger Friends

The small group was talking, busy pouring over large drawing tablets and a laptop spread over two tables that were put together. The three women were laughing and sketching, complimenting and critiquing each other's work. The small café seemed somehow brighter with them in it, the sun pouring through the large windows lightening up what they brought in.

"Eh, Im Meahri," called Lee Jeong Rok from behind the counter, "are you going to just sit there all day without buying anything else?"

Meahri glared at him. "Leave us alone, Oppa, or I'm going to tell Park Min Sook Unni what you were really doing on Thursday night."

"Eh, Im Meahri," called Jeong Rok, eyes wide, expression panicked, but the younger woman ignored him and turned to her friends.

"Is something wrong with the Ahjusshi?" asked Han Mi Young glancing back at the counter and then back at her.

"With that Oppa?" Meahri said with a snicker not looking up. "No. He's just like that."

"Oppa?" asked Park Eun Hye eyeing him before turning back to her friend.

"Oppa," said Meahri nodding. "He's my brother's friend." She looked up at the girls. "Don't worry about him too much. His wife owns the building."

"The whole building?" Mi Young asked her eyes wide.

With a smile, Meahri inched closer to her and whispered conspiratorially, "The whole block." Eun Hye and Mi Young gasped sending Meahri into a fit of giggles.

"This building is huge," let out Mi Young in awe, "let alone the whole block."

"There are so many floors," echoed Eun Hye. "In here alone there's a café, construction offices, an insurance company, a broadcasting company, and a coffee shop."

"And a law office," added Meahri.

"And a law office," repeated Mi Young. She turned to Eun Hye. "Isn't that where your mom went for her divorce?"

"Hmm," agreed Eun Hye. "Both times. I think she goes because she likes the lawyer. What's his name? Choi? He's cute."

"Hey, are we here to work or gossip?" asked Meahri scowling. "We need to finish this design by tomorrow."

"Okay, Okay," said Eun Hye, turning her attention back to her work. "Professor Ahn will be upset if this doesn't come out right."

"Ahh," sighed Mi Young, still dreaming. "Can you imagine being married to a lawyer?"

"Work," Meahri snapped at her.

An hour later, the three girls were still busy looking at their drawings, bickering over the design, and then suddenly laughing when someone made an inane comment. Lee Jeong Rok heard them gossiping too although he knew Im Meahri would never admit it. She was determined to work hard to become a designer, and he had to admit she was putting her all into it. The classes she was taking at the university and the slightly younger girls she worked with all played their part in helping Meahri grow.

"How's she doing?" asked a voice suddenly from the other side of the counter.

"Hey," let Jeong Rok. "Your wife's been sitting there for three hours and hasn't ordered anything in the last two."

Choi Yoon shook his head at the other man. "Leave my wife alone. Do you want me to tell your wife what you were doing last Thursday?"

"Why is everyone so worried about it? I was just giving the lady directions."

"You were flirting," Yoon told him matter-of-factly, his eyes on Meahri.

"Was not."

Yoon turned to him. "Then why did she laugh so much and speak informally?"

"I don't know. She was a weird woman. Why don't you ask her?"

"I will. What's her name?"

"Suh Ae Ra," Jeong Rok said unthinking.

Yoon's eyebrows shot up and he gave his friend a once over. "Hey, do we need to reset your phone again?" he scolded.

Jeong Rok gave a panicked look before turning and saying loudly, "Meahri, Yoon's here."

"Oppa," let out Meahri with a smile, waving to him. He waved back and smiled shyly before she turned to pick her things up.

"Oppa?" asked Mi Young. "He's cute."

"Is that Ahjusshi another one of your brother's friends?" asked Eun Hye.

Meahri laughed as Yoon walked over and stood up, swinging her purse over her shoulder. "Yeabol (Honey)," she exclaimed, linking her arm through his.

"Yeabol?" echoed Mi Young.

"This is my husband, Choi Yoon," she introduced.

After the initial hellos were said, Eun Hye gaped in surprise. "Lawyer? Im Meahri you didn't tell us you were married."

"Hmm. Over a year now. Yeabol, are you ready to go home?"

"Hmm," replied Yoon, leading her out the door with a wave to Jeong Rok. When the couple was safely outside the building, Park Eun Hye and Han Mi Young turned to each other and let out deep breaths.

"Wasn't that the lawyer you mentioned earlier?" asked Mi Young.

"Uh-huh."

"The one you said was cute?"

"Uh-huh."

"The one you said your mother liked."

"Uh-huh," gulped Eun Hye.

"That's Im Meahri's husband?" continued Park Mi Young.

"Yes," said Eun Hye finding her voice. "But he must be at least fifteen years older than her."

"At least," echoed the other girl. "Seems kind of romantic though doesn't it?"

* * *

Meahri was giggling as they drove home, making her husband give her sideways glances. "What's wrong?" he finally asked.

"It's nothing," sputtered Meahri. "Really."

"Tell me," insisted Yoon.

"You're not going to like it."

Yoon sighed heavily. "All the more reason for me to hear it."

"Well…Park Eun Hye's mom likes you."

"Her Mom?" let out Yoon, his pitch becoming higher.

"Apparently you handled two of her divorces."

Yoon was silent for a moment before he groaned. "No. Not Moon Mae Ri with the botox and short dresses."

Meahri giggled some more let out an "And…"

"And?" prompted Yoon impatiently.

"And Mi Young thought you were cute."

Yoon's face turned red and Meahri laughed a little. "It doesn't bother you, does it?" he asked quietly.

"They were trying to imagine what it would be like to be a lawyer's wife. What should I tell them? That you come home late, meet with clients at strange hours, spend more time with my Oppa and Do Jin Oppa and their legal problems than with me?" Meahri looked at him innocently, eyes wide.

"You could say that I make you breakfast, make sure you get enough sleep, and make the bed."

"Hmm," said Meahri as Yoon pulled into the parking spot in their building's garage.

"Are you mad at something I said?" asked Yoon questioning her silence. He put the car in park and turned off the ignition before turning her.

Meahri pursed her lips before suddenly turning to and giving him a kiss on the cheek. She let out a bright "I love you," with a smile before jumping out of the car, leaving Yoon to touch his cheek in surprise.


	3. Bar Lessons

Yoon noticed that Lee Jeong Rok's bar was busy when a group of men walked past the cluster of chairs where he was sitting with Park Min Sook and Jeong Rok. An associate of Park Min Sook's, a man by the name of Baek Min Ho, was looking for a lawyer to handle his second divorce. Baek Min Ho who was in his fifties, was well on his way to getting drunk, and making Yoon uncomfortable with his comments about women and love. He asked numerous times why his second wife wasn't young and pretty like the women at the bar. Should he get a third wife like the girl who smiled at him from across the room?

"What's wrong with women?" he asked the group. "Do they just crush hopes and dreams? Do they even believe in love? These women just take and take but what do they give back?" he questioned hopelessly, downing a shot of soju.

"Some men are like that too," Min Sook replied looking at Jeong Rok pointedly.

"Love is give and take, take and give yeabol (honey)," chuckled Jeong Rok nervously. He looked at Yoon. "What do you think love is, Yoon? You know everything there is to know about marriage."

"I don't know everything," replied Yoon quietly, giving his friend a pointed look as he downed his scotch.

"Tell me," encouraged Min Ho sloppily, taking another shot. "What don't I know?"

"Attorney Choi was a widower," replied Park Min Sook. "My husband is correct in his assessment that Attorney Choi does indeed know more than we do about marriage."

Min Ho eyed him, making Yoon squirm in his seat, before the other man leaned back against his chair, and said lazily, "Hmm."

"Oh, you should see him with the girls," Jeong Rok encouraged. "They just flock to him. Why Im Tae San's younger sister chased after him her whole life until-"

"How about a wager?" offered Min Sook to Min Hee.

"A wager?" questioned the older man, interest showing noticeably. He drank another shot of soju before asking, "The terms?"

Min Sook was quiet for a moment before replying. "I wager that Attorney Choi can get a woman in this establishment to go home with him tonight."

Yoon choked on his scotch while Jeong Rok began to protest, "Yeabol."

"I pick the woman?" asked Min Hee.

"Of course," replied Min Sook calmly.

"Surely this is not necessary," offered Yoon weakly, aware that he was putting put in a corner.

"Of course it is, Attorney Choi," answered Min Sook. "Baek Mon Ho here doesn't believe my husband when he says that you know about love."

"But-" counterd Jeong Rok.

"And if I win?" asked Min Ho.

"I will pay your attorney's fees for your divorce," stated Min Sook serenely. "And if I win, you will pay Attorney Choi twice his regular rate."

"Park Min Sook," let out Yoon, his voice louder than normal.

"That one," said Min Ho suddenly, directing his gaze to a woman in her early thirties, lonely-looking as she downed her martini by herself.

"Too easy," replied Min Sook. "She's desperate looking. How about her?" she pointed to a girl in with a gaggle of other girls. "She's young and pretty and very much involved with her friends. She will prove much more of a challenge."

"I agree," accepted Baek Min Ho. "Her with the white dress."

"Yeabol," cried Jeong Rok. "If Im Me-"

"Don't you have customers to look after?" she interrupted coldly, grandly gesturing to the people around them, daring him to contradict her.

"Of course," replied Jeong Rok dimly, excusing himself and reluctantly making his way behind the bar, giving his friend an expression of apologetics and fright.

Yoon turned to the group of women Min Sook had been referring to and his eyes widened in surprise. "The one in the white dress?" he asked hesitantly.

"The white dress," confirmed Min Ho.

"And all I have to do is get her to go home with me?"

"Exactly," replied Park Min Sook. She took a sip of her wine before continuing. "I have complete faith in you, Attorney Choi."

Yoon finished the rest of his drink before setting it down on the coffee table in front of him, standing up, and taking a deep breath before walking across the room.

"Watch carefully," Min Sook told Mon Ho quietly.

As Yoon approached the gaggle of women, he suddenly felt old compared to the twenty-somethings that were soon surrounding him. Some of them he was sure, were young enough to be his children, Colin's age. When he found the woman in the white dress, he touched her shoulder, and was greeted with a bright smile.

"Oppa!" cried Meahri happily. "Park Min Sook Unni asked me to come here tonight with some of my friends. I didn't know you were going to be here."

"She asked you, huh?" Yoon shook his head.

"What's wrong?" asked Meahri, her expression suddenly worried.

"I think she plans on teaching someone a lesson," said Yoon with a glance back at where Min Sook was sitting with Min Hee.

"Him?" asked Meahri.

"He's getting a divorce and whining about it," was Yoon's response. "Have you had anything to drink?"

"A cocktail," she replied. "Why?"

"Because," he responded. "Park Min Sook bet that I could get you to come home with me."

"Why? Of course I'm going home with you. I'm your wife," she let out, a dazed expression on her face. "Am I dreaming?" she asked suddenly, pinching her arm to convince herself of the reality of the situation.

"_He _doesn't know that," he answered. "Let me get you another drink and then let's go home." Yoon gestured to the waiter who swiftly brought them their drinks.  
"Oppa, let me introduce you to my friends," she said while they drank, gesturing to the group of women behind her. "This is Lee Eun Chan, Park Min Yu, Kim Ha Na, and Go Na Ri," she pointed to each one as she said their names and then turned to them and said, "This is my husband."

After the initial greetings and hellos were said, and their drinks were drunk, and a quick glance back at Min Sook, Yoon let out, "Let's go home, Meahri. Ladies, the drinks are on Park Min Sook," he finished, looking at Meahri's friends.

"Okay, Oppa," replied Meahri, smiling. She looked back at Park Min Sook where the older women gave her a nearly imperceptible wink as the pair walked out the door.

* * *

"He really did it," cried out Baek Min Ho in surprise. "A pretty young girl like her too."

"That's love," replied Min Sook draining her wine glass.

"How long did you say he has been widowed?"

"I said he was widowed. He's remarried now."

"Remarried? Is he taking her to a hotel, then?"

Min Sook smiled slyly. "Attorney Choi, a middle-aged man got a young woman almost half his age away from her friends and convinced her to go with him. Wouldn't you say that's love?"

"Love?" Min Ho roared with laughter. "That's lust. I wouldn't mind if my third wife were like her."

"That is Attorney Choi's wife."

Min Ho choked on his soju. "That young girl is his-," he gestured, unable to finish the sentence.

"Attorney Choi is not only married to a pretty, young woman but he got her to leave her friends for a fun night on the town in order to go home for a quiet night with him. I think that's love. Don't you?"

"You tricked me," Min Ho accused suddenly.

"You chose the woman. I merely guided your choice," reasoned Min Sook. She took a breath and then continued. "If you want to know what love is, what marriage is, then look at Attorney Choi and his wife who loved despite the obstacles."

As she finished the pair looked across the expanse filled with people and then at the door where Yoon and Meahri just exited.


	4. The Bedroom

Although her wedding night had been ruined by the ritualistic drinking that a groom partook of the first night of his marriage, surrounded by his closest friends and, in Yoon's case, his new brother-in-law, Meahri could not help but think of her honeymoon with fondness. There had been shyness, bashfulness but there had also been laughter, impatience and exploration. Her honeymoon had been a time for pushing the boundaries of what had previously been expressly forbidden and now was freely allowed. It was, she thought, a time when Yoon really saw what it meant that Im Meahri was a woman. It was a time when he realized his needs as a man, understanding for perhaps the first time, the loneliness that had pervaded him since Jung Ah's death.

He was careful with her those first nights, as if he were afraid she would break, as if he were afraid she would disappear while he cradled her between the sheets. He was tender. He was kind. He appreciated her youth, her vigor, her nakedness. He was intimidated by her inexperience. So he held her close and cautiously because she was his new bride, and his to care for and cherish.

She was unsure of herself those first few times when she understood the reality of what it meant for Yoon to be her husband. It meant that there were few secrets between the couple. It meant that she was a woman in his eyes and his embrace. She clung to him tightly, afraid he would leave, realizing that her youth and innocence were too much of a burden to bear. To her, their new marriage bed was a place of giving and taking and the formation of relationships which were meant to last a lifetime.

When he held her, unsure of himself, his actions rather than his words admitting the years of solitude he had dwelled in, the time he had spent without the comfort or care or touch of a woman, she understood. And when she brought him close to her, her movements rather than her expressions revealing that, for the first time, she didn't know how to express what she wanted, he understood. Those first nights, for the first time, they came together as human beings, as a man and a woman, equally aware of the other's desires, fears, worries, and needs.

Meahri soon learned that it would not always be like those first nights. There were times when she didn't want to be held by Yoon or him by her. She became angry by the generational differences, the age gap, that surrounded them even as she understood the impossibility of ever totally eradicating it. She became upset over the slightest differences of opinion, when she didn't always get her way. Marriage to Yoon was not the fairytale she had always imagined. But when he held her in his arms, in the privacy of their bed, showering her with kisses, she thought that few things could make her life better than it was.

Afterwards, he always held her close, wrapping his arms around her so that her head rested on her chest or on her pillow next to his. Afterwards, he always whispered words of affection and confessions of love, intertwining his fingers with hers. Afterwards, he always made sure she was alright, brushing her hair back away from her sleepy eyes. Afterwards, he always showed her how grateful he was, how much she was cherished.

In the privacy of their bedroom, Meahri knew Yoon showed her how dearly she was loved. Their physical relationship had blossomed from shyness to passion. With every passing year, she knew that his love for her grew rather waned. He always gave her everything she needed and as much more as it was in his power to give. Outside of their bedroom, the ogling passerby might ungracefully list everything that was wrong about the couple, but inside the four walls that housed their marriage bed, Meahri could only see the goodness, the rightness, the truth of their relationship. And inside those for walls, all was well.

She supposed this was why it was her favorite room in the first days of their marriage, even after those first nights and the honeymoon period others claimed would soon fade. She preferred their bed to all other seating in their home, and liked it when he laid beside her. In the first days of their marriage, she was consumed with an all-engulfing passion that manifested itself spectacularly. At the end of the day, she greeted her husband in short skirts, in shirts that generously revealed more than they covered, in dresses she would never go out in public in. She allured him with lace teddies and underwear bought with him in mind. Her favorite perhaps, was the robe under which she wore nothing. And he would take her into the bedroom and show her just how much he cared for her.

But as the days and the months and the years of their marriage passed, Meahri began to like the bedroom because it was where she and Yoon could talk away from the fast-paced world outside and the children that wailed for their parents. In talking, Meahri found a new kind of intimacy with her husband that had very little to do with their bodies and everything to do with their relationship. They talked about his work and hers, their family, their friends. They discussed their ideas and hopes and dream. And in time, they learned to discuss the age difference and the never-ending troubles it brought. And in time, Meahri learned to accept the inevitability of what the age difference meant.

The seventeen years that separated them meant that he would grow tired and grey before she would. The seventeen years that separated them meant that he would be old while youth still clung to her. The seventeen years that separated them meant that he had already loved and lost while she had merely begun to learn the meanings of those words. The seventeen years that separated them meant that their life together, while not always difficult, was never easy.

And as the years passed by, their speech which was once of a youth speaking with her elder, a child talking to an adult, a girl pleading with a man, formal, constrained, and careful became free and easy. As the years passed by, they learned to speak informally with one another, their speech was now that between a husband and a wife, a man and a woman, a human and a human. And Meahri, and Yoon, found new freedoms in that ability and the intimacies that developed after the first days of their marriage.

Meahri had once appreciated the four walls that surrounded the marriage bed she shared with her husband. Those walls had offered them privacy from the prying eyes of the outside world. Those walls had offered sanctuary for a new bride and her husband. Those walls had housed her marriage bed. But now those walls offered peace and easiness and a place where any words could be said and be accepted gratefully. The room that those four walls enclosed, became a refuge and a haven.

Although her wedding night had been ruined by the ritualistic drinking that a groom partook of the first night of his marriage, surrounded by his closest friends and, in Yoon's case, his new brother-in-law, Meahri could not help but think of her honeymoon with fondness. It was the time when she had first blossomed into a woman, first understood the meaning of the word wife. It was the time when she stopped being's Yoon's junior and became his equal. It was the time when they became family. It was a time of learning and understanding. It was a time of accepting-her choices, her marriage, and the realities that accompanied what was now her life.

As promised, Yoon never let go of her hand-even in the seclusion of their bedroom.


	5. Even If

**Please Review!**

* * *

Even if Meahri didn't realize it, Yoon knew just how old he was. He was old enough to have watched her grow, to see the progression of her life from childhood to girlhood to womanhood and wifehood. He was old enough to know the first time she had kissed a boy, the first time she had worn high heels, the first time she had gone to a grown up party. He was old enough to know that she had never seen him as anything other than a man, even as a toddler, her eyes looking at him widely and with wonder.

Even if Meahri didn't realize it, Yoon knew just how old he was and just how they looked to other people. When she was a child and blindly followed him, ahjummas on the street asked him if she was his little sister, their eyes and lips full of smiles and laughter. When she was a teenager, her figure still girly, and friends with Jung Ah, ahjusshis complimented him on how beautiful his wife and daughter were, a perfect family. When she was a young woman, just after they were married, ahjummas clucked with disapproval and ahjusshis crowed with pleasure saying that he wanted someone young and pretty to warm his bed. To them, that was all that Meahri was.

Even if Meahri didn't realize it, Yoon knew just how old he was and just how long she had been chasing him. To the ahjusshis and ahjummas who thought that Meahri was merely a pretty plaything, they could not possibly understand how much she loved him and for how long. She had chased after Tae San in her school uniform and pigtails in hopes to catch a glimpse of him who had always been nicer to her than her brother. She had become friends with Jung Ah to be closer to him, knowing that as a married man he was forbidden to her forever. She had asked him for help with her studies before she transferred to university in America in order to spend more time in his company. He had not always been nice to her, but he had never been cruel. And even though she had perceived his unkindness for what it was, she had always chased him, hoping that friendship with him, at the very least, would be available to her.

Even if Meahri didn't realize it, Yoon knew just how old he was and just how much she had suffered. She had been passed from her parent's care to her brother's, from her brother's to an aunt's, and then back again, like someone who was unwanted or an item that required too much care and trouble. She had been told everything in life that she should do and everything that she could not do. She had been told what everyone's expectations about her were without anyone ever asking if she had her own hopes for herself. Her childhood had been sprinkled with unpleasantries as she came to the slow realization that her age and generation did not always match. Stuck between a younger, more innocent world and an older, jaded one, she was sucked into the latter. She had watched her friends her own age come and go; she had watched as Jung Ah, the woman she called unni, faded to the edge of death. She had friends leave her as she was forced to say good-bye to Korea and leave the life she knew behind.

Even if Meahri didn't realize it, Yoon knew how old he was and just how desirable she had become. She was pretty and educated and rich. Her body, once a baby's then a girl's and then an adolescent's, had finally become that of an adult woman. She was willing to move mountains for the people she loved, make the impossible possible, protect them from harm. For the people dearest to her, she would feign happiness and apologize for things not her fault. People were the most important thing to Meahri. All she wanted was to love and be love. And for those whom she held in her heart, she would sacrifice and suffer and accept it with grace. And those qualities are what made him want her for a wife.

Even if Meahri didn't realize it, Yoon knew just how old he was and just how much she loved him. He knew that her girlhood crush, during the years of his widowhood, had become the feelings of an adult woman. He knew that she was willing to accept any part of him, any piece of his past, as long as they could walk into the future together. He knew that she understood the affect she had on him, that she realized he had stopped seeing her as a little girl a long time ago. He knew that she understood how long he had kept his feelings at arm's length for the sake of his friends, his in-laws. But not for her sake. Because a woman willing to do anything for the man she loved could not accept defeat so easily. Because he had never said that he did not love her, only that he could not love her. But it was for his sake that she was willing to leave even as she wailed that she could not live without him. It was then that he knew just how much, and how deeply, she was in love with him.

Even if Meahri didn't realize it, Yoon knew just how old he was and just how hard their life would be together. Tae San's disapproval, society's assumptions, the disdain of his colleagues were all things they would have to face. She would lose her youth to him, caught up in his world of aging and the things she must do on her own because he would not be able to help her. There were times when they would feel uncomfortable, stared at by lookers-on. He would be old and tired while she was still bounded with energy. Some days, he knew he would be more of a hindrance than a help in raising their children. And one day, he would leave Meahri to cry at his funeral, years of life ahead of her, while he passed on to the next world.

Even if Meahri didn't realize it, Yoon knew just how old he was and just how much he loved her. He was willing to give her as much as it was in his power to give whether it be affection, love, comfort, money, time, or any other material and immaterial object that came to mind. She had become everything to him-wife, sweetheart, darling, lover, partner. His memories were now colored with thoughts of her. He loved her enough to tear his world apart so she could sew it back together, the seams tighter and sturdier than what they once were. He loved her in a way that could not be said with words or always demonstrated by actions. She had become his everything, the sun around which his life revolved.

Even if Yoon didn't realize it, Meahri knew just how young she was and just how precious their time was together. She had spent a lifetime chasing him and she would spend many more lifetimes by his side, for as long as possible. She loved him enough to trade youth for marriage, dreams for fate. She knew that their days were numbered and would pass by quickly, like sand in an hourglass. So she would hold on to him for as long as she could until he slipped from her fingers and time, their largest obstacle, had won. But for now, he was beside her and she was happy.

Even if Yoon didn't realize it, Meahri knew just how young she was and just how blessed they were.


	6. Any Regrets

**Please, Please, Please Review if anybody out there is actually reading this. **

* * *

"Do you regret it?" a voice whispered.

The bedroom was shrouded in darkness, covered by shadows created from illusions of light. It was cold outside, December in Seoul, and the coolness had crept into the bedroom, making the tile floor icy to the touch. Blankets were piled high on the bed in an effort to keep the chilliness at bay. One of the people of the bed shifted slightly at the sound of the voice, the sound ringing in her ears after disturbing the stillness that nighttime provided. "Are you still awake?" she asked softly.

"Hmm," was her bedmate's reply. She could tell by the sound that he was facing her rather than the wall, but she kept her back to him instead turning her face toward his.

"You should sleep. You have to get up early in the morning," was her curt response. She stilled herself and made her breathing deeper, giving the appearance of sleep without actually succumbing to it.

"I know you're awake," Yoon said a few moments later. "You didn't answer my question," he continued after a pause.

Meahri refused to respond, but couldn't help but sigh deeply at his words.

"I'm sorry I was so hard on you," he told her gently. "I'm still learning to be a husband."

She fussed with the blanket in agitation, but refused to turn to him instead she let out another sigh that demonstrated her frustration with him and the situation.

"You should have known I would worry."

She didn't move.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She shifted silently, plumping her pillow quickly before laying her head back down on it.

"I'm worried about you." Yoon realized, perhaps for the first time, just how big the bed was and how far away she seemed. For the first time in a long time there was physical distance between them. It made him feel alone.

"I love you," he let out with a sigh of his own. After he was greeted with silence, he shifted so that his back was to her and he was staring at the wall.

Yoon felt something move in the bed and was aware Meahri had turned to him when he felt her breath on the back of his neck. She stayed there for a few moments, still, until she decided to begin talking.

"Are you Im Tae San that I have to tell you where I am at every moment? I don't want or need another guardian," she let out in frustration before silencing herself. She took a few deep breaths and then continued. "I left you a voicemail. And you should know that I can take care of myself."

"I know," was his soft response when she refused to continue. "But that doesn't mean I don't worry." When Yoon received no answer, he turned over so that for the first since they had climbed into the bed that night, they were face to face. He studied her features as well as he could in the darkness, memorizing every curve and crevice, committing it to memory. "What are you really angry about?" Yoon finally questioned.

Meahri was silent, and he could see in the shadows that her jaw was set in a firm line. At last, after what seemed like an eternity she answered him. "You are not new at being a husband. You are not learning to be a husband. You are learning to be_ my _husband."

Yoon blinked a few times after he heard that statement, trying to puzzle it out. Then he realized that she was referring to the one thing she never referenced or spoke of since their wedding. He had been another woman's husband once. "But I have never been in this situation before. I was so worried about you, and you came home so late, and you went to a club…."

"I didn't deserve to be treated like a child," Meahri interrupted him. "I am not a child."

"You're right," he said after a moment's hesitation. "You're not a child. But you're my wife. And I have never been in this situation before."

"You should not have yelled at me. And," she lingered on the word before continuing, "you should have let me explain. My youth is not an excuse to treat me poorly."

"I know."

"I might be young, but I am still your wife," she repeated. "And I know how hard this love was. I wouldn't throw it away for the world. But before you said you loved me, you told me to chase my dreams. I didn't know the meeting was going to be at a club."

"I'm sorry," Yoon told her. He moved his hand toward her in the darkness and brushed his fingertips against her cheek, surprised to find wetness there. "Are you crying?" he asked gently, brushing the tears away with his thumb.

She sniffled. "It's been happening a lot lately."

When the tears stopped, he asked her, "Did you get the job? Working at the handbag company?"

"Hmm. I start as an assistant in two weeks. It's not a designing job, but it's a start."

"We should celebrate this weekend," he said. "Is there somewhere you want to go?"

She thought for a minute. "Can we go to the ocean? I want to enjoy the beach before…"

"Yes, before," he echoed. The palm of his hand rested on her cheek and he could feel her smile. His heart rose, but when he thought about her words, it sunk again.

"I have never," he cleared his throat and then started again. "I have never been in this situation before. Not with…anyone."

"I know," she answered. "And we knew that our ages would be an obstacle to overcome. I used to be nothing more than a child to you."

"It was wrong of me to assume you went clubbing when you said where you were and how late you came in. But that's not what I was talking about." His hand, when had been resting on her cheek moved under the blankets until he could feel the thin linen of her nightgown. His hand stopped at the small swell of her belly.

"That's why you were worried," let out Meahri in understanding. "I wouldn't do anything that would cause any problems….there."

"I know. In my heart of hearts, I know. But that still doesn't stop me from worrying."

She put a hand to her own belly and rested it on his. The feel of the cool metal of her wedding ring was a reassuring comfort and a reminder. "I know how hard this love was to gain. I would never do anything to risk everything we worked for." The pair was still for a while before Meahri let out a small giggle. "I was upset because I thought you were treating me like a child when you were just worried about our child." She giggled again. "Welcome to fatherhood," she told him.

"Ay, what do with you," he moaned at her giggles. Suddenly, Yoon moved his hand her shoulders and flipped her around until her back was to his chest and his arms were wrapped around her, holding her close.

Meahri sighed in contentment. "My dream is coming true," she said softly in the darkness. "I have my husband and a child and soon I'll be designing purses. No, I don't regret anything."

Yoon answered her with a snore, already asleep, entrenched in the peace and contentment that came from having her near him. Meahri merely snuggled closer.


	7. The Day

**For those of you out there reading this, thanks a million! :) This one's for the reviewers. **

**Please Read &amp; Review! **

* * *

Meahri could remember it all clearly in her mind's eye, and when she went back to that day, a smile instantly graced her lips and tears leaked from her eyes.

The day she married, how happy she felt and how right it seemed to have Yooni Oppa next to her. For the first time, he was beside her and she beside him as equals, man and woman. The day she entered her honeymoon suite and the way she felt in his arms. Loved, safe, warm, cared for, adored.

The day she entered their new home when everything looked bright and shiny. When she realized this was all hers and his, all the things that made up a life together.

The day that marked a hundred days of marriage and his surprise. And the way he continued to surprise her since that day.

The day that her new friends realized who her husband was and the day her friends teased her and called her "ahjumma" even though she could see envy in their eyes as they thought about her life.

The day that marked the first real argument she ever had with Yoon. And she recalled the way she had locked herself in the bathroom and cried, only letting herself out when she realized that their argument meant he thought her worth explaining himself to.

The day she graduated from school after years of starting and stopping when more than anything she wanted Yoon to take a picture with her.

The day she came home so drunk, that she could barely move the next morning. When he held her hair as she vomited over the toilet.

The day she got a job as an assistant at a handbag company. When he verbally told her how happy he was for her.

The day Yoon told her, without any prompting or prodding, but offhand in an nonchalant and expectant way, that he loved her.

The day that they bumped into each other visiting Jung Ah's memorial in the charnal house. The awkwardness that lingered as Meahri remembered that he had loved and lost before she had come to be by his side.

The day that they agreed to visit Jung Ah together on her deathday anniversary every year and, for a brief few moments, relive days past before they were partners.

The day she realized that she and Yoon had become friends as well as spouses, relaxing in each other's company without effort or energy, but simply being and sharing and talking.

The day that her first handbag went out on the market and Yoon bought twenty and handed them out to people he knew because he was so proud of her.

The day that marked ten years together, and the day that marked twenty. How quickly the days passed and how suddenly. When she realized they were friends, lovers, spouses, partners. When she realized two lifetimes with Yoon would not be enough.

The day that marked her thirtieth birthday and then her fortieth. How she realized that the age gap lessened as the years passed instead of widened as others had feared.

The day she saw her first gray hair in the mirror, and she looked over and saw the salt-and-pepper hair on his head. And the day she realized that, to her, Yoon would always be and look like the Oppa she remembered in childhood.

But, most of all, she remembered that day, the day when she and Yoon became more than husband and wife. But when they became parents to the same child. How she held that small and tiny wonder in her arms, and cried at the miracle she saw in her eyes. And how Yoon stroked her back and told her what a wonderful job she had done.

And she remembered all the days that her son had spent growing up, how he cried the first day she dropped him off at school, the day she saw him laugh with his friends on the playground, the day she realized he had his first crush on a girl, the day he brought home his results for his college entrance exam, the day he told her he was going to medical school, the day he said he would specialize in pediatrics, the day he told her he met the woman he was going to marry, and, she supposed, she would always remember this day, the day her son became someone's husband, someone's son-in-law.

Meahri could feel the twinge of regret welling up inside her as she watched the ceremony take place. From today onwards he would no longer merely be her son. A stage of life was ending. A new one was beginning.

And for a moment, for a brief moment, as a hint of breeze brushed against her cheek, she remembered the girl that she had been thirty years ago. That Meahri refused to feel sadness, refused to dwell in regret. She chased, she ran after her dreams and grabbed her fate so tightly that it still clung to her even after she had tried to let it go. That Meahri saw only the happiness, the goodness of life even as she was aware of the world's troubles. On that day, thirty years ago, Meahri had been the bride. And she had anticipated the next phase of her life without looking back, without wondering, without sadness.

Meahri could remember it all clearly in her mind's eye, and when she went back to that day, a smile instantly graced her lips and tears leaked from her eyes. In one brief moment, as she thought about that day, the day that led to his birth and his beginnings, Meahri could only hope that her son would be as blessed as she was. That he would be as happy as she was. That he would be as at peace as she was. That he would have someone by his always as she did.

Meahri squeezed her husband's hand, and felt the comfort of it as their fingers intertwined together as they had for the last thirty years. The familiarity sent a spark of nostalgia through her. But as she looked at her son and his bride, she saw the future. And it was bright. And it was good. And Meahri could only think of the days that were to come and smile.


End file.
